A young woman who can change her skin color searches for belonging and freedom from a difficult home life through music.
“My mother could change the color of her skin”: Gabrielle, the narrator, has inherited this gift, which she calls “passing.” Gabrielle is about to graduate from high school in Florida as the novel opens, and though her color-changing has been largely out of her control, she’s managed to keep her condition unnoticed by everyone but her parents. Her father, a Black lawyer with aspirations to be the perfect Republican, prefers that both Gabrielle and her mother (who is Black and Indigenous) pass as White when he gets home from work, to match their house’s all-white interior. “There were no dark things allowed in our home—except for whiskey, and him,” Gabrielle tells us. When Gabrielle’s father decides she should be pre-med at the University of Florida—“It's very competitive,” a campus tour guide tells them. “But it's a great program”—he demands she take a year off after high school to work on her extracurricular activities, giving her a better shot at admission. She begins taking piano lessons from Dominique, a young Jamaican woman whose brightly colored home and vibrant family life are everything Gabrielle wishes her own could be. Organized into parts corresponding to movements in Mahler’s Symphony No. 3, Neal’s narrative takes us through Gabrielle’s struggle to understand who she truly is and what she wants at the same time that her family irrevocably shatters. Like Gabrielle herself, though, the novel never quite settles on how to present itself, and many questions of narrative logic—characters’ motivations and histories, how Gabrielle’s passing works—go unanswered.
Falls short of a magnum opus but with enough lovely notes to make it worth a look.